Pursuit of Madness

“Wanna Have a Beer?” Whenever I hear this question my pulse start racing and a feeling of nostalgia mixed with a tingling feeling of horror and humor overtakes me, and I end up replying “I don’t”. Though a lot of time had passed and a lot of water has flown under the bridge, the memories of that fateful night are still fresh in my mind.



It was around the time I had just graduated and had both more energy and more wildness in me. I had moved to Bangalore to start my career as a system engineer in a software giant and a simple and unassuming Akshay has overnight turned into an arrogant and wild Mr. Sharma. While looking for accommodation I had met Prem, who was also a fresher and working as a game designer, who introduced me to Gaurav and Amit who were freshly graduated Chartered Accountants and Rajat who was a network administrator in another MNC. We happened to rent a house, which I must tell you, is quite an accomplishment in this city. Although quite different from each other we bonded well and became great friends. It was sometime two months into the new job when slowly the work pressure had started mounting on us and the rosy beds were slowly turning thorny and the optimism was slowly dying that this Friday night changed our life forever.

Every Friday night prior to that one, we used to watch a movie or a cricket match, talk some crap and complain about our work or the south Indian food before going to sleep. Things were looking similar that night too, till Prem came out with this wild idea. We had just finished India vs. West Indies T20 cricket match that India had lost and I and Amit had broken out into an argument about Dhoni’s captaincy. Just then, out of nowhere, Prem asked “How about getting some beer?” To my surprise, he was serious and Amit and Gaurav were actually considering. I looked at my expensive Fast Track watch, which I had bought out of my first salary, and it showed 11:30. “No Chance! It’s too late. This is not Delhi or Pune. This is a faltoo city. Forget about beer we wouldn’t even get a bottle of medicine at this time.” I explained. The one thing that often surprised me and continues to surprise me about this city is that on one hand it claims to be one of the most advanced cities in the country on the other it is being ruled by and is overcrowded with people who refuse to move forward and don’t want others to move forward in the name of Indian values and culture. Leaving aside all important problems concerned to the public they are bent on ensuring that city dies at 11. They don’t have problem with people working whole night for earning small wages but they have problems with people wanting to enjoy a little bit. “I know a place. We can get it” added Amit. I actually doubted he did for I had often seen him claiming things which he didn’t do, but there is one thing that a man can’t kill, and that is temptation. I decided to give it a try. Gaurav also agreed almost instantly. Rajat now was the only problem. One look at Rajat and one could be pardoned for believing that there is something seriously wrong with him or that he suffers from malnutrition, as he weighed only forty eight kilograms and sported a horn rimmed spectacle. I often used to joke that he was a nature’s mistake and he was actually meant to be a girl but a software bug in some part of the code of God’s software resulted in him becoming a boy, and it led to the programmer being fired. He was a typical bookworm and had no hobbies whatsoever. No music, no movies, no fun was his way of living and thus convincing him for a beer would be Herculean task. No matter what argument we used to convince him he simply kept making faces and shaking his head in a haphazard manner saying “No, I don’t like its smell.” I tried the clichés like “You must taste everything at least once in life” and “These days even the girls drink”, but for no avail. Finally we gave up and decided that four of us will carry on and Rajat will stay back and sleep with his books. As it turned out to be, Rajat had taken a smart decision.




Amit and Prem were the only ones who could afford a bike. While Gaurav sat behind Prem, I preferred to sit behind Amit as he was a sensible driver unlike Prem, who loved the accelerator more than his life. I again looked at my Fast Track in which all the three hands had just met, and date was on verge of being changed. The bikes had started roaring and soon we were ripping through the empty streets. There is a strange sense of pleasure in riding a bike after midnight on empty streets. The sound of roaring and the cool wind slapping the face give rise to a strange sensation of ecstasy caused by the rush of adrenaline through the whole body. Both of them had soon crossed 100 Kmph with Prem even performing some stunts and Gaurav silently chanting the Hanuman chalisa.

“Where the hell do we get the beer from?” Amit asked. I wanted to kick him hard at a place where it hurts most, for he was the one who some time ago had claimed that he knew a place. “Pubs would have closed, so roadside wine shops are our only bets”, Gaurav explained. He had a unique capability to simplify complicated things and complicate simple things. We went through various streets, but all we could find were closed shops as if laughing on us, and beggars sleeping on footpaths getting awake by the bike noise. It was only after traveling around one hour that we saw a shop with a Foster’s label and somebody sleeping near it. Amit went and woke him up. He got up and gave us a surprised look. He was well over six feet with red eyes and thick moustache and a belly threatening to tear his shirt. Before we could say something he asked “Beer?” “Great”, I thought.
“One forty ka ek” he said.
“What ekdum double. Hundred Kafi hai” I said.
“ Night. Risky. 140” he said.
“5 Bottles lene hai.Correct bolo” Amit said.
“130 last”
“120. Dena hai to bolo?” Prem added.
“Ok”
“Great. Deal done” I thought.
Prem took out a five hundred rupee note and said “Five Kingfisher Premium. Chilled.” The man tool the note folded it and touched it to his eye, returned Prem 100 rupee note and was just about to open the shutter and slip out bottles, when almost out of nowhere a police patrol party consisting of two bikers arrived on scene, probably to do some moral policing. On seeing them the man disappeared without even returning our money. Before we could do something one of the bikes was just in our way. One of them was short, stout and middle aged and was wearing a leather jacket while the other was younger but looked rather weary.

“Guys. Give me a good reason for you people being here at one in the night and I’ll let you off” asked the younger man. “Probably he has copied a dialogue from a Hollywood movie” I thought and said “We had gone for 10 to 12 show of the movie” and was instantly amazed that how did I get this idea.
“Which movie?”
“Fast and Furious 2” I said, hoping that this could be one movie which have the least chances of him having seen it, lest he might ask us the storyline.

But he had other ideas. “Show me the tickets.” He delivered a googly and left me stumped. “You think we are fools. Right?” he mocked. “Where are your DLs?” the older one demanded. While Amit took it out instantly, I could see Prem’s face getting pale. As expected he was once again the trouble maker. He had forgotten to carry it.
“All four of you, to the station” he said. “One night there will get you back on track”

“Sir we just came for a ride and we missed the DL. If you allow one of us to go, he will get the DL” Gaurav requested.

“NO”

“Is there any other way out?” Prem asked rather hesistantly.

“One thousand!”

“Sir we don’t have that much. We only have 250”Amit lied.

“Don’t you fuck around with me? You want me to believe that four of you came for drink with only 200.”

“Sir, that guy did not return our money.” I added.

“Chalo 500 de do” the older one said.

“We can maximum give 300. If you don’t agree arrest us.” Amit exclaimed rather calmly leaving us all agape.

“Chalo lao. I have to go home.” The older one signed off.

I gave him three hundred rupee notes. He took it, wetted his thumb from his tongue and counted the notes twice and very silently slipped it in his back pocket. All the while the young one was watching him intently. “Fuck off! I don’t want to see you here again. I won’t leave you the next time.” He said before finally starting his bike and leaving.

I watched them disappearing into the darkness and turned back and said “Let’s go back! It’s enough. We have lost 800 rupees and there is no chance of getting a beer.”

“Yes! He is right Let’s go back” Gaurav protested.

“No way!” Amit almost shouted. “There is no way I am returning without it today. Now that we have come this far I will take it at any cost.”

“You are right. Let’s try M.G road.” Said Prem

“But….” Before I could say something, Prem said “If you two don’t want to come, you can fuck off. Take one bike, we will take the other.” He said in a harsh tone. We reluctantly agreed to come. The clock had struck two and the chances of finding beer were anything, but realistic. We searched for another half hour trying our luck at every corner but found nothing. We had lost money, were almost jailed and Gaurav had has his heart in his mouth on many occasions. Finally, we had lost hope. Amit had lost it, he stopped the bike, got down and rip down a poster reading “Bangalore Rocks” and torn it down into pieces and broke out. “Fuck this city. This city sucks, the people suck. It only wants to see people destroying themselves with work, work and more work. Salla what do these bastards expect people to do after working from 9 A.M to 10 P.M by closing down everything at 11. Do they expect us to come back home after being screwed all day and sit and watch the Big Ass TV and listen to these assholes?” He said and sat down on a footpath nearby with his face between his palms.

Just then, like an angel from heaven, an auto-driver reached the scene. He took a look at us and said “Bottles chahiye. I can arrange. Every bottle 30 jyada lagega.”

Amit got up as if some energy had flown into him and had a spring in his step and a song on his lips. “Chalo done. Paanch bottle lao.”

“OK. Follow me...” He said as he started his auto and took a turn into a small lane. We had lost all powers of reasoning and logic. We simply followed him until we reached a dead end, but there were no shops or houses there. Before we could realize anything six more people appeared and two of them had pistols pointed on mine and Gaurav’s heads.
All of them looked rather well built and were carrying some weapons.

“Make any sound and I will blow off you head. Get off the bikes” One with the gun said.

We had no options but obeying. Another man took his hand into our pockets and took out our cellphones and wallets. “Open your watch” he ordered me. I hesitated, and he pushed me hard and snatched it out. “Your Jacket” He said to Prem and Prem innocently took it off and handed it to him. I for a second wished him to shoot Prem for it was because of him we landed into this. We watched helplessly as four of them sat in our bikes and other two boarded the auto and fled leaving us cashless about 20KM away from home, and no means to contact anyone at 3 in the morning.

“Luckily they didn’t kill us” Prem had lost everything except his sense of humor. “You want to die?” said Amit. “Cut the crap. How the hell we get out of here. We don’t have a single penny and no means to reach anyone. Worse, we can’t trust anyone” I said.

“Let’s wait for 2 hours. At around 5 A.M we will take an auto to home and will pay him when we reach home” Gaurav simplified. We waited for around two hours sitting on the same footpath where Amit did an excellent dialogue delivery some time ago. It was only during those hours that all of us decided that we will never drink again. Finally, at 5 we hired an auto and reached home by 6:30 to find a worried Rajat at door and he paid the auto-driver. We explained the story to Rajat who instead of sympathizing with us started laughing aloud. I kicked him hard; he fell down but still continued laughing like a hysteric. I wanted to strangulate him to death. He laughed for around 10 minutes, leaving us infuriated. He finally stopped looked at me and said “You must taste everything at least once in life” and started laughing again for another 10 minutes adding insult to injury.

It has now been two years to that event. All of us have moved out of Bangalore and hear very little from each other. But one thing I can assure is all of us had never tried to drink beer again. Even Prem, one who used to gulp down 3 bottles in 10 minutes hasn’t drunk it for past two years. It is another thing that now he drinks on the rocks whisky. Gaurav and Amit moved to Pune while Rajat is now settled abroad. However, whenever he meets me, he does just one thing. He laughs aloud.
So folks if you want to have beer in night and don’t have one in the fridge, Think again.